


Midnight

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Mostly Gen, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Being Death really fucking sucks, sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching Jack play Deadbolt today and he screamed, "Death is coming and his name is Jack!" and this is what came out of it. 
> 
> I had so much fun writing this. Seriously. I came up with the universe for it as I wrote, and boy oh boy, it's so intricate to me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_“It's your burden now.”_

~~

The fear in the woman's eyes is enough to make Jack want to leave her for another day. 

But he doesn't, this is his job. It's not as though she really _sees_ him, but she can sense him, as all humans can. They always sense him when their death draws near. He carefully grabs the woman by her shoulders, a cold sensation to her, easing her down onto her back. He purposefully makes his touch as soothing as he can make it, and when her breathing stops being sharp and starts being soft, only then does reach inside, pulling her soul from her body. 

The breathing stops. He grabs a vial from his bag. Jack places the soul inside and her name appears on the side. He breathes. He sighs.

Being Death really fucking sucks, sometimes.

~~

Jack is tired. But he looks at the next name on his List for the day. It's a young boy named Mark Fischbach, and he hates the fact that it's a child.

Taking children is always the worst, but the world is what it is. He cannot deny his job. He doesn't know what else he should do, if he didn't do this.

He goes to the little town, in the dead of night, while it sleeps. A warm breeze fills the air and the stars are particularly bright. He wonders why that is.

Jack finds the little house with the little family, and finds the room of small Mark Fischbach, fast asleep. The boy looks so peaceful and sweet, and Jack's heart swells, hating, absolutely _hating_ this part.

But as he draws nearer, the boy opens his eyes. They are hazy with sleep and curiosity—the childish wonder for a stranger. But he is not afraid. He lays very still and very quiet as Jack reaches out for him, and his soothing touch seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

His breathing never quickens. Mark never closes his eyes. He keeps looking at him but there is still no fear. Jack wonders how he is not frightened. 

He reaches inside to take the small soul, but something stops him. His hand cannot pierce the spiritual barrier. But it makes no sense, because his name is written on his List. Mark Fischbach should die tonight.

Jack looks into his eyes, and Mark looks back, and Jack is terrified to realize that this boy sees him. Truly sees him. 

He steps back. The boy's eyes don't leave him. Jack leaves under the cover of the night.

Mark Fischbach will live tonight. 

~~

Mark Fischbach becomes a fixation to him. He thinks maybe that it's a fluke—and that he hadn't truly seen him. But the way that those soft brown eyes bore into him makes Jack believe someone has seen him for the first time. When he had checked his list that night, Mark Fischbach's name had disappeared. Jack doesn't question it.

Nevertheless, he moves on. Jack still collects souls and still channels them to wherever they need to go. He is tired and every day he is tired, but Death gets no breaks and Mark Fischbach still should have died. 

It is not until years later than he sees his name again, and this time, he thinks. This time he will collect him for real. 

But when he goes, he does not leave with his soul. It is a car accident but Mark is in perfect condition. He looks much older than the last time Jack had seen him, but he recognizes him all the same. He is crying as a man is dying next to him, and Jack checks the List again to be sure it's not the man he is to take with him.

It is. Jack goes to the man and though his breathing is ragged, he is ready. He works his magic and pulls the soul out, placing it in a vial and tucking it away. 

When he looks up, Mark is staring at him, cheeks stained with tears, and Jack knows he truly sees him this time. But Mark says nothing, and returns to looking at the now dead man next to him.

Sirens wail. Jack leaves. 

~~

He doesn't understand how Mark can see him. No human should be able to. And Mark is definitely human.

Jack can't focus on him lest he fuck up doing whatever it is he's doing. He checks his List compulsively, waiting for his name to appear again, but it doesn't, and it annoys him because he _should have died years ago._

He doesn't know how he keeps fucking over the system. The Death System is a very precise system full of precise mechanisms and basically, it runs pretty damn smoothly. But for some reason Mark Fischbach wants to be an outcast and wants to keep driving Jack absolutely mad.

He sees him again a few years later at a hospital, in a hospital gown finally looking like he's ready to die. His eyes are closed and Jack takes it upon himself to try and move as quickly as possible.

The minute his hand comes in contact with Mark's shoulder, his eyes snap open and he looks at him. Jack expects to see fear, as always, but no, it's that same childish wonder from all those years ago. 

A million questions pop into his mind. But he's not supposed to speak to any human on his List. But Mark obviously isn't any normal human, is he?

“What the _fuck_ ,” he says instead, and Mark's eyes widen. 

“You tell me,” he mumbles, and Jack grabs a vial from his satchel. 

Mark continues to stare as Jack he presses his fingers to his chest. But the spiritual barrier is still there, still prominent, and, “God, why won't you _die_?”

The other male looks as if he doesn't know how to answer, and Jack throws down the vial in anger. It shatters all over the floor, but then dissipates. Jack rummages for the List, and sees that again, Mark Fischbach's name is gone.

“What the hell are you?” Jack hisses, and he doesn't wait for an answer as he pulls his cloak around him, and leaves. 

~~

He reads profusely on humans. He tries to find out what the hell Mark Fischbach is to be able to see him, and talk to him, and _erase his name from the List._

Nothing. He can't find anything. Jack wants to scream.

He does scream when three months later, Mark Fischbach appears again. 

~~

“Either die, or don't die,” Jack tells him, walking towards him. Darkness trails in his wake.

Mark seems unafraid, as if this isn't phasing him at all. “I'm not quite sure what you mean.”

Jack withdraws the List, showing it to him. “Your name has appeared on this list three times before now. This is number four. But every single time I try to take your damn soul, I can't get it, and your name disappears. What _are_ you?”

“I'm...me?” Mark begins, shrugging a bit. “I don't...really know what to tell you...Death?”

_Death_. The name seems so disgusting on Mark's tongue, the one who can't even die, apparently, so he tells him, “Jack.”

“Jack?” Mark questions. 

He nods. “Jack.” 

Mark seems to be confused, and Jack doesn't elaborate as he swirls his cloak and leaves. He doesn't bother to try and take his soul this time.

He checks the List afterward. His name is gone, anyway. 

~~

“So...I can't die?” 

“Fuck if I know.”

Mark looks at him and Jack can still see the child in him, the brown eyes still the same as they were all those years ago. He shouldn't be here with Mark, yet his name appeared _fucking again_ and he's honor-bound to be here, to at least _pretend_ he's going to take his soul. 

“I think I remember you,” Mark says, out of the blue. “When I was a kid, I remember someone in my room. I thought I was dreaming.” 

“'Twas me,” Jack tells him.

“And when my dad died...” Mark's voice drops to a whisper.

So it had been his dad, Jack thinks. It explains all the tears. Doesn't explain why Mark's name had appeared. “Also me.”

Mark is quiet. Jack doesn't know what to do then pat his shoulder, using his touch to soothe the nerves he feels coming. 

~~

This goes on for years. Mark grows older. His name appears on the List sporadically but they begin to become more like checkups rather than times to go and get his soul. He tries just for the sake of it, but he's never able to push past the spiritual barrier. 

Twenty-six is the age he figures out what Mark is. He curses himself for not guessing that option sooner. Every few millenniums, a person is born with an innate ability to “outwit” Death, their life force recharging itself the moment their name appears on the List.

These people are called the Midnight Children. And Jack had been one of them.

It had been so long now that he had forgotten. His mind had shut out his old life and all he could remember was being _Death_. But he had been just like Mark. Able to communicate with Death. Able to avoid his soul being taken.

_Because there was no soul to take._

Mark is going to stop growing soon. The age cut off is different for everyone. For Jack, it had been twenty-four. He still looks twenty-four, he thinks, his eyes the only thing that had aged. 

When Mark stopped growing, Mark would take his place. And maybe then Jack could sleep. 

~~

“I don't understand.”

“There's nothing to understand. You just do it.”

Mark buries his face in his hands. “What do you mean I'm not human? That I'm...whatever you called me.”

“A Midnight Child,” Jack repeats. “Get used to it. It's going to happen. Surely you've already noticed changes?”

“Not a one,” Mark says, then shakes his head. “You're crazy. I'm crazy. God, can't you just take my soul and be done with it? Can't there be a mistake?”

Jack tries to recall if he'd had the same conversation with his former. Who had it been? He thinks long and hard, wracking his brain for a face, or a name. Fred...Felix? Felix. It had been Felix. Felix had been the Midnight Child before him, millenniums ago. They had had this same talk. Jack in disbelief. Felix resigned and tired. 

Memories wash over him, all of them. He remembers his childhood. He remembers his brothers and sisters. His parents. His friends. He remembers growing up. He remembers disappearing. He remembers getting the List. 

He's fucking old, he realizes. And too fucking tired. 

“Jack,” Mark pleads. “Can't you just take my soul and be done with it?”

“You don't _have_ one,” Jack hisses, then realizes maybe he's being too harsh. “I can't take what you don't have.”

“You're insane,” Mark whispers, and Jack vaguely remembers saying the same thing all that time ago. 

Mark puts his face back into his hands, and Jack says nothing. 

~~

He looks so sad.

“Nothing makes sense anymore,” Mark mumbles. “My family...they don't...they don't answer me. They don't see me, Jack. It doesn't make sense. Bob and Wade...my two best friends...they don't see me, either. I call them and their phone doesn't ring...”

Jack shrugs. “You're fading from existence. No one will be able to see you other than the Midnight Children, here soon.” 

“But the pictures,” Mark continues. “I'm not even in the pictures anymore. It's like...I never was.”

He looks so small, so frail. He's bigger than Jack but yet he appears so little right now. He sees that young boy again that he couldn't take the soul from. It makes him ache for some reason. 

“As far as the universe is concerned,” Jack says softly, “You weren't.”

Mark runs his fingers through his hair, shaken. He can understand that this—that all of this—is so much to handle. It's all so unreal. He remembers being more angry than Mark, though—he remembers Felix telling him that he wasn't real and Jack had lost it. 

But Mark stands so still. His shoulders shake, his fingers tremble. Jack doesn't understand himself as he glides over to him, pulling him into a hug. 

He doesn't think Felix was ever this tender. But he can tell Mark doesn't mind as he pulls him in tighter. 

~~

The List is gone. 

Which means Jack's time is up. Which means Mark will take over. Which means he can sleep.

God, he hasn't slept since he turned twenty-four. Exactly three months after he'd turned twenty-four. He aches. His body is tired. 

But part of him aches for Mark, too. Mark, whose life has been turned upside down out of nowhere. Mark, who is terrified of the life before him. Mark, who is so innocent and did not ask to be born the way he is.

Jack had been the same way, too. It isn't fair. But it's the way the world is. It's how it has to be.

~~

“I don't know what to do.”

“You will.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I did.”

Mark is quiet at that. His fingers are shaking as he holds the List in his hands. The first names are already appearing. Mark must go. 

“You need to go,” he says. “Souls are waiting.”

“I'm scared,” Mark whispers. “I can't kill people.”

But he isn't killing them. Jack thinks he knows this, too. But Jack remembers how scared he had been, the thought of taking someone's soul from them, squeezing the last bit of life out of their lungs, feeling their skin grow cold. 

Time heals that fear. It will for Mark, too. He tells him as much. 

“Will I ever see you again?” Mark asks, his brown eyes fervent, pleading. He wants this comfort.

Jack doesn't know if he can give it. He hasn't seen Felix in all his years. Never once has he caught a glance of his ashen blond hair, his sad blue eyes, or his pale skin. Not since getting the List. 

But he has grown fond of Mark. And a part of him wishes that seeing him again will be possible. Perhaps in another life for the both of them. 

“God willing,” Jack says lightly, because he can offer nothing else. Mark looks accepting of this answer.

“Where will you go?” he asks, as Jack hands him the satchel, full of the vials. Full of the souls he'd collected. Heavy with the weight of the souls that will soon join. 

He doesn't know. But what he does say is, “To sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
